summer's end

So summer is coming to an end...which means things are going to drastically change. I'm moving back to Boston which is very exciting, but also very scary. When I left Boston to come to dc for the summer I was leaving an important person behind. Now, i'm not sure how she's going to fit into my life. And i'm scared. I also have gone through so many gender changes this summer. I have felt like a girl for a good part of the summer, but had to present female even when i didn't want to, when i almost couldn't. This will all be changing again. I won't have
my parents breathing down my neck, telling me how a woman should dress and act...

I feel as though i am living two completely separate lives. There is my life in Boston, and my life in DC. Slowly i feel my life in Boston becoming more influential and a larger part of who I am. Again, i'm scared. DC is my home, it's shaped me and embraced me and helped me become the person I am today. But boston is slowly becoming my home now. I have my own address, my own mailbox, hell- even my own minuscule bedroom. The hard part for me is letting go of the things I have going well for me in DC and letting myself go to boston without any regret. This year will be very different from the last.

I hope I can find a real home within my apartment, and i hope I can build a real family of people with whom to share love and support.

10 days.

(no subject)

I havent used this journal in quite some time. I was conned into using it again (you know who you are) and realized I need to add some more recent eye candy.

In terms of life stufffff things are going pretty well. I hate marketing. I hate puke. I hate marketing almost as much as I hate puke. Thats nothing new. I like film, and believe i am going to be a flim major. I dyed my hair today so my scalp burns. um, the end.

title or description

Collapse )

(no subject)

Gray sky filled with white birds flying from one distorted branch to another. Vigorous waves from the sea forcefully strike the dark coarse sand leaving in their track a path of white foam. The stars hover above the desolate island; illuminating. Faint bellows are heard across the water, but the night keeps the culprit hidden. As the sun returns and is reflected in the ocean, movement can be observed. The quick splashes are linked together with grunts of delight, which eco off the sharp cliffs. During the day, the tough waves soften and the silhouette of life can be seen dancing within the sea.
I am the silhouette. I am the product of this land, filled with gray sky and white birds. I am the silhouette. My long brown hair moves through the water with the highest form of grace as it dances upon my . The brightening sun reflects the blues and greens of my shimmering scales onto the stones.
When the sun disappears I quickly leave the beach, for even the birds are not out tonight. In the darkest hour, large vessels fight their way closer to the rock-strewn shore. The waves hear the bellowing voices, but even the roughest fight from the ocean is not enough to keep the peculiar noise away. From the vessels appear finless hairy animals who remove me from the water and tie me to their boats.
The sun takes to the sky once again while the gray clouds still . As my scales slowly dry to a lackluster sheen I search for speak of my fate. It seems I can comprehend the bellows and in addition, these animals have resemblance to my own form. I awaken while the animals pull and tug to remove the ropes from my withering fins. Before I realize it I am back within the water. This water does not have the frothy foam of freshly broken waves, but rather has murk leading up to the surrounding glass walls. Hours pass filled with contemplation.
More of these people, as I learn they are called, point and shout at my now lackluster fin. How do I understand what they are saying? Where do all these people come from? The sign above my tank reads “Freak show”, does that make me entertainment? If we appear to be of the same origin, where are their fins? One male shouts “stupid ugly fish”, while the other male he is with spreads his lips to reveal a yellowed grin. What is this “fish” the person speaks of, is that my name? Moments later a large woman emerges and barks “divergent ” at me while tapping on the glass. Does this woman know something I do not? Am I abnormal ? Am I a fish? Am I a ? I resemble these people, am I one of them? The night fills the sky with severe blackness while the sign above remains blinding. I am the silhouette. I am the product of human and fish combined. I am the broken silhouette.
Many sun’s rise and set each filled with a new group of humans, tapping on my glass. Slowly, I find myself giving up. There doesn’t seem to be any more to life than this murky water. Occasionally there are men that pass by who want to see my bare . I get paid extra if I unhook the shells and reveal myself so I often do. Slowly, I find myself giving in. Besides the passersby, there are all the other acts within this side show.
The man with two heads always seems to stare at me with those sharp blue eyes, always judging. The dinosaur man is pacing throughout the night causing my water to stir. The one person who intrigues me the most is only in the show three days a week, sporadically changing. Her dark gray whiskers stand out against the white bars. Her strong hands clasping the metal in anticipation to be released once more. During the greater part of the week the conjoined twins occupy her cell. Their four arms, each containing misshapen fingers slide around and around on the clean white metal; contaminating. These two are joined by a great mound of flesh which connects at the pelvis. Their warped identical faces display the same blank look. Though connected and part of the same being, the two can never face each other.
I yearn for the feeling of belonging that these two must feel. There is a comforting presence evoked from the touch of another being that I long for. When the twins leave for the night my heart is lifted up by the fast paced pumping motion, for I know the bearded woman will return the following morning.
As the sun rises once again, I awake to seek out the gray comfort of whiskers. My chest burns as truth is revealed. The strong grip is not wrapped around the metal, rather, the cell is filled with vacancy.
My fin is dulling. My hair is flowing in front of my face. Removing, and then repositioning the shells is more work than its worth. With a large tug the seaweed snaps and the shells sink to the bottom of the grimy tank. With one large gasp of air I join them under the surface. Before I can come back up to take a new breath, there is a firm, steady hand on my shoulder raising me above the filth. As my limp body is removed from the tank my heart begins to pound with a familiar intensity.
Once again, I feel my hair resting on my skin. When I open my eyes, I realize it is not my hair at all, but the smooth gray that frames my saviors face. I look up into her eyes and feel comfortable. I feel safe. These are accepting eyes. This fixed gaze, like the mound conjoining the twins connects us into one superior being. When we reach the island we are greeted by the same vigorous waves, but now plants and animals cover the once desolate earth. I finally found my partner in life, the one complimentarily thing that makes me feel alive. Just as I have rediscovered life, the earth has recollected the beauty of creation. We are the silhouette. We are the product of separate lands, each with their gray sky or blinding lights. As the sun rises and sets against the gray sky filled with white birds, I hold my lover close as if trying to fold into one being. We are the silhouette.


I feel like crap today. It was just a long long long day, and i'm SO done. School was pretty crapy. I failed a test, i felt really left our for whatever reason with my friends... work was interesting. I cant tell if jason is FINALLY opening up, or if it was a fake day of progress. I also still havent come out to anyone at work, which is problamatic. I mean, i would never say anything to my co workers but I do feel i shoud say something to the other interns. Its annoying, i ask andrew all about his weekend and he talks for an hour. Then, he doenst ask me one question about my weekend. How am i ment to come out if he doesnt as me ANYTHING. am i truly ment to (as we are working) be like "wanna go get coffie with the lezbian?" and then start to get up and get my purse?

gack. i'm not sure anymore. I just feel really trapped whithin this little bubble of "me".

I feel as though one of my friens is driving me absolutly NUTS while the other one is slowly ignoring me. yeh. complain, complain. i know. just let me be emo for a while...ok?

(no subject)

mmmm so more pictures! wooop!...these are pictures of the haircut. enjoy!

The haircut is short on the sides and in the back, and longer on top, with bangs. SO, when i put product in it its kinda fawx-hawk-ish...and yeh. I tried to hawk it haha enjoy!


Collapse )